


Really Is A Hero

by inmyriadbits



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Cunnilingus, F/M, Future Fic, Innuendo, Laughter During Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Queen-sized bed, Shameless Smut, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:30:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyriadbits/pseuds/inmyriadbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Oliver had gasped "Bedroom," against her mouth, she'd replied, without thinking, "It's so cute that you think I can walk right now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really Is A Hero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/gifts).



> Dear Celli,
> 
> I’m not sure how I got from your prompt to a shameless PWP treat set at some vague future date with no context, but I’m hoping you won’t mind too terribly. ♥
> 
> Some credit for this belongs to redbrunja. I don't really know her, nor was she ~~harmed~~ involved in the writing of this story, but the idea -- and the title -- came to me while reading the comments section for [This Is The Art Of Living With A Ticking Heart](http://archiveofourown.org/works/882801). Because when someone commented liking that Oliver was "the kind of guy who goes straight for the oral sex," redbrunja replied "Sometimes, he really is a hero."
> 
> So. Here's to Oliver being a hero. :)

"Oof," Felicity said as her back hit the bed, and then she lost her train of thought, because Oliver was taking off his belt.

They had been pressed against the wall inside the door at the other end of her apartment, but when Oliver had gasped "Bedroom," against her mouth, she'd replied, without thinking, "It's so cute that you think I can walk right now." Which was either a mistake or a really great decision, because he'd stopped doing that awesome thing with his teeth, and slung her over his shoulder to carry to the bedroom.

"Hey!" She wasn’t really upset, but seriously?

Oliver just ran the hand holding her legs up the inside of her thighs, and that distracted her really pleasantly until she found herself tossed on the bed.

_Okay, definitely a good decision_ , Felicity decided, stretching on her sheets to feel the cool fabric slide over her bare back. They'd both lost their shirts -- and, in Felicity's case, her bra -- back at the door. She was almost used to Oliver's shirtlessness, but the reverse definitely wasn't the case; _he_ hadn't been able to wait, putting his hands and mouth on her breasts.

Felicity ran her hands absently over the early prickle of stubble-burn on her neck and chest, then propped herself up on her elbows to take in the show.

Oliver had forgotten the "shoes first" rule of taking off pants in his rush, which was kind of hilarious, but in a way that sent heat curling through her. She thought about the way he'd pressed her against the wall before, hands curving over her hips as he kissed her.

He was definitely taking too long.

"Hurry it up, Oliver," she said. "I want to see if my mattress really is Queen-sized."

Oliver glanced up, the corner of his mouth rising in a smile as he dropped his socks to the floor. Felicity waggled her eyebrows -- finally, innuendo that she _intended_ \-- and he huffed out a laugh (one of the little ones, the kind that seemed to take him by surprise; she loved making those happen), and paused his stripping long enough to lean over and place a kiss on her stomach.

He backed away before she could reach her hand up to keep him there, and pushed his pants the rest of the way off, then his boxers.

She whistled at him, smirking but genuine, and Oliver grinned back. "I swear, if you make any queen-sized jokes right now," he said, stepping in, knees pressing against the mattress as he reached for her waist. Felicity helped unhook the side-zip of her skirt before backing off so he could take care of the rest.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said, lifting her hips and shimmying as he pulled the skirt off. Oliver hooked his fingers up and under her underwear through the leg openings, and the backs of his hands brushed her skin all the way down. It was almost scary, how easily that -- _he_ \-- turned her breathless.

She was naked, and Oliver's palms were warm on the inside of her ankles, pressing as they slid up her calves, curved over her knees and along the inside of her thighs. Her legs bent and spread wide under the gentle pressure, and she had barely a second to feel self-conscious before Oliver leaned in and licked, wet and firm.

Up on her elbows, with her feet lifted just off the bed, Felicity didn't have any leverage to push her hips into the touch like she wanted, and that made her moan louder than usual. She flushed hot as the sound of it echoed, as Oliver's thumbs continued the path of his hands up her thighs, spreading her open as he licked in again.

Oliver lifted his head -- _no no no_ \-- and smiled. He was still standing, leaning over with just his hands on her. And smiling.

"Okay, seriously, how are you still not in my bed," Felicity said, and pushed up off her elbows to scoot back toward the headboard. Oliver followed, and had his hands back on her so fast that she only missed them a little bit. He was kneeling between her bent legs now, fully off the floor.

"Ta-da," Oliver said, totally straight-faced. "Queen-sized."

Felicity was still laughing while he cupped one hand to the back of her thigh and pushed, holding it wide as he circled her clit with the other thumb, then chased with his tongue. Felicity felt his fingers tighten on her leg as she gasped, her eyes falling closed, laughter and sensation spiraling up together, every move of his mouth drawing her higher. One long finger slid inside her; he licked, curled his finger up and rubbed, drew all the way out and pressed in and out again with two. He sucked a wet kiss against her, the change in feeling sharp and sudden, and holy fuck she was almost there already. Oliver thrust in, slow, with those clever fingers, his tongue running broad and firm over her clit; she clenched down around his fingers and came with a cry.

Oliver seemed to freeze for a fraction of a second, but when she shuddered and closed her eyes, he kept at it, coaxing her through the aftershocks.

Felicity reached out and threaded her fingers through his hair when it became too much, and Oliver immediately pulled back and knelt up. She felt his weight shift to one leg, dipping the mattress, and lazily opened her eyes to make sure he wasn't going too far.

Oliver had pulled up a corner of the sheet to wipe at his mouth, and she had to kiss him right that second.

Felicity sat up, legs still bent wide around his hips, and said "Oliver," sliding her hand along his arm to his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

He leaned in, mouth open and wet as he kissed her desperately, then straightened and pulled her up to him instead, dragging Felicity by the hips to straddle his kneeling legs without ever breaking their kiss. Oliver shifted one hand to cup her bottom, the other spreading wide over her lower back. His cock was hard, flush against his stomach, but he made no move to pull her closer. Oliver just held her there like it was nothing, all solid easy strength, and she relaxed into his grip.

Felicity felt loose and comfortable, warm from her orgasm and enjoying the feel of Oliver's shoulders under her hands, so she returned the kiss languidly. Oliver was wound up with tension, but she kept it slow and firm until he settled, shoulders relaxing down. She pulled back to rest their foreheads together.

"Okay?" Oliver said, breath warm on her skin. Felicity nodded, and leaned back to cup his cheek and meet his eyes. He looked weirdly serious, intent and focused on her face, and she kissed him again sweetly.

He was smiling again by the time she pulled away.

"So, what next?" she said, and Oliver pulled on his totally-innocent face, which was even more ridiculous in the current context.

"It's your bed; you decide," Oliver said, and watched her face just long enough to see her flash through all the myriad possibilities. "Or," he shifted his hold so he could slide the hand on her ass down and under, and pushed two strong fingers in where she was wet and spread open, "I have a few suggestions."

" _Oh_ ," Felicity said instead of whatever thing she now totally forgot she'd been going to say.

It couldn't have been that important.

At that angle, he couldn't get his fingers very deep, but that didn't matter. She could feel every drag in and out, and she was surrounded by Oliver -- hot skin under her thighs, hard arms curving over her hip and around her back, hand cupping intimately over her, inside her. She pushed back against his hand and yes, _there_ , that was a good spot. Felicity felt pinpricks of sweat break out across her body as heat rushed back in.

Oliver ducked his head, pressing a kiss under the corner of her jaw. He was being so quiet, she realized. Not that he was unaffected -- she could feel his breath rushing fast and harsh over her pulse, tiny hitches as he tried to catch it, and she knew it wasn't from holding her up like this; she'd seen Oliver carry on entire conversations while lifting his entire body weight, and not miss a single breath.

Without really thinking it through, she used his shoulders to brace, then hooked her legs up to wrap around his hips. Felicity pulled herself all the way to him, until his cock was trapped tight against his belly and she was pressing slick against the underside.

_That_ got her the noise she was looking for. Oliver jerked against her, head dropping forward to rest on her collarbone. 

Felicity was still sensitive, but that sliding friction felt amazing. She closed her eyes, scratching her fingernails lightly up the nape of Oliver’s neck as he thrust twice more against her, with deliberation.

“God, that feels good,” she said. When Oliver didn’t answer, she worried for a moment -- then realized he was just distracted. She followed his gaze down; Oliver was watching his cock press between them, another slow slide down his length, leaving it wet and hard in the wake. She felt it a hot spike of arousal through her belly, and involuntarily flexed her thighs, pushing against him. He hissed, and--

“Okay, condom! Condom right the fuck now,” Felicity said. “Bedside table on your left, let’s go.” She stopped herself short of snapping her fingers at him.

Oliver just pulled back and grinned at her for a second, the smug gorgeous bastard, and paused to kiss one of her nipples in a slow, wet tease.

Then he performed a ridiculous maneuver to hold her up with his right hand while balancing both their weight on the left to move them up the mattress -- and that, ladies and gentlemen, was why Felicity liked watching him do one-handed pushups. Oliver lowered her shoulders to the mattress, but when she began to unwind her legs, he pressed a light hand to her knee to keep her where she was.

Her vision maybe went a little fuzzy when Oliver leaned over to fetch a condom from the bedside table and combined the movement with a wicked little twisting hips thing, but she would never tell. It didn’t much matter in the face of Oliver fumbling endearingly (if frustratingly) to get his cock properly covered.

And then Oliver was pushing inside her, and it was just the right side of too much and just fast enough.

Felicity's head pressed back into the mattress as she arched up to him, tightening her legs to urge him on. Oliver's hands curved around her thighs, and he dropped a kiss to her sternum, all the way inside her.

Then he started moving, and Felicity loved that he didn't treat her like she was delicate. He would touch her like she was special, sure, like he was carefully loving the way she felt, but he never held back as if she might break or fall apart. It made her feel strong, and satisfied, and possessive.

And it fucking felt amazing -- Oliver was all control and power and raw need like this, like he couldn't stop or take it easy on her. He expected her to keep up, and she did.

Felicity tilted her pelvis for a touch of space, breathing in sharply at the changing angle as she reached between them. She couldn't resist curling just one finger around his shaft as he thrust into her, and Oliver swore appreciatively. She smiled, and moved on to her clit, slippery and hot under her fingers. 

The first touch made her gasp and clench tight around Oliver’s cock. He didn’t make a sound this time, just pressed his face to her neck and began to move in shorter strokes, with all the power concentrated at the end, when he was fully inside her. Felicity slid one knee up the side of his ribs, and moaned when Oliver pressed a hand against her inner thigh, spreading her wider for him. She worked her fingers faster against her clit, and felt herself fall past the point of no return.

“Oliver,” she choked out, and then all the air was stolen from her lungs as she came, too breathless to make a noise until she was coming down, sounds hitching out of her in gasps as she rode the aftershocks.

She came back to coherence with Oliver was still moving fast and hard into her, and starting to lose control at the edges of his movements.

“Come on, come for me,” Felicity said softly, catching on the words she spoke right against his ear. She stroked her hand down his side, and pulled her other leg up to bracket his hips. “You feel so good, just like this,” and felt his whole body tense, pressing in for one final thrust as he came inside her.

They stayed like that for a handful of breaths before Oliver gathered himself enough to pull out, lowering her hips down. He rummaged in the drawer again for clean-up supplies, while Felicity starfished out in a stretch.

Once everything necessary for their comfort was done, Oliver collapsed onto his stomach beside her, then seemed to practically melt into the mattress. Felicity ran a hand down his spine. He felt boneless and easy -- albeit in that scarred-skin-over-hard-muscle kind of way -- and totally relaxed.

“Wow, you really go puddly after sex. It’s impressive.”

“Only after really great sex, actually.”

“So--”

“Felicity, I think you’re fantastic,” Oliver interrupted, still somehow managing to sound as fervently sincere as usual despite mumbling into her sheets. “Please go to sleep now?”

“We’ll see if you’re still saying that tomorrow morning,” Felicity replied, and was gratified to see Oliver’s eyes pop back open for a second, before he groaned and buried his face in the pillow.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Just the little ones,” Felicity said smugly.

Oliver growled, reaching out to hook her around the waist and pin her to the mattress with one arm. “Sleep now. Mouths later.”

“Promises, promises,” Felicity said, and allowed herself to drift off to sleep, warmed by the satisfaction of getting the last word.


End file.
